Percy French was perhaps Ireland's most famous songwriter and entertainer. Every Irishman is well acquainted with such songs as 'The Mountains of Mourne', 'Phil the Fluter's Ball' and of course 'Flattery's Mounted Fut'; and who can forget that immortal refrain 'Come back, Paddy Reilly, to Ballyjamesduff'?
William Percy French (1 May 1854 – 23 January 1920) was born at Cloonyquin House, Elphin, Co. Roscommon. Initially a civil engineer, he had an artistic calling and produced numerous paintings, mostly landscapes. He later turned to journalism and entertaining; composing and performing his songs in music halls across Great Britain. He was indeed one of the most famous entertainers of his times.
I have been a great fan of Percy French for many years, having grown up to the sound of his music played by my mother on our well polished piano. What I never knew, until very recently, was the link between the man himself and the old RIC.
French used to make use of his contacts touring around Ireland, and would often stay with friends and extended family in the 'big houses' of the Anglo-Irish Ascendancy. Mealda Hall, the Roscommon born entertainer and storyteller, recently revealed that Percy French was also often invited to stay over in local RIC barracks.
Her father (District Inspector George Hall) was a friend of French, and used to say to her “Don't let Percy French's memory die.” One of his songs - Drumcolliher - was a favourite in the Officers Mess at the Depot.
D.I. Hall was a Monaghan man and it may well be for him that the poem 'The Road to Ballybay' was written. However I will indulge myself that French, staying in Ballybay, came across my grandfather, then a young police constable, courting the station-masters daughter Maggie Anne. Perhaps he did indeed come across them on...The Road to Ballybay.
“Is this the road to Ballybay?"
Sez I to Miss Magee;
"You're leavin' it behind you,'
Sez Maryanne to me.
So I turned and walked beside her,
And 'tis only fair to say
It was very pleasant walkin'
On the road to Ballybay.
Ballybay, Ballybay,
'Twas a dark and winthry day,
But the sun was surely shinin'
On the road to Ballybay.
"Is this the road to fame and wealth?"
Sez I to Miss Magee;
"Ye've got the brains, ye've got the health,"
Sez Maryanne to me.
"But still I want a comrade
To praise me an' to blame,
An' keep me from the traps that's laid
Upon the road to fame."
Ballybay, Ballybay,
No man could go asthray
With a guide like her beside him
On the road to Ballybay.
“Is this the road to Paradise?”
Sez I to Miss Magee;
“I'm thinking that it might be,”
Sez Maryanne to me.
Oh I saw the love-light leppin'
In a pair of roguish eyes,
An' I knew we two were steppin'
On the road to Paradise.
Ballybay, Ballybay,
The birds are far away;
But our hearts they sang together,
On the road to Ballybay.
(My grandfather had always said that Ballybay was the happiest posting of his life.)
Photos reproduced with kind permission of The Percy French Society
